


448. seeking

by piggy09



Series: The Sestre Daily Drabble Project [87]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:42:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piggy09/pseuds/piggy09
Summary: Sometime around midnight, the glass door to Beth’s apartment rattles slightly and then opens. Sarah, sitting at the table with her gun, is well-prepared for it; she aims, clicks.
The door stills. Then Helena’s head pokes around the glass. She tilts her head to one side, faintly chastising.
“You were never going to give me their names,” she sighs sadly. “Were you.”
“No,” Sarah says. She gestures with the gun towards the kitchen table. “Sit.”





	

Sometime around midnight, the glass door to Beth’s apartment rattles slightly and then opens. Sarah, sitting at the table with her gun, is well-prepared for it; she aims, clicks.

The door stills. Then Helena’s head pokes around the glass. She tilts her head to one side, faintly chastising.

“You were never going to give me their names,” she sighs sadly. “Were you.”

“No,” Sarah says. She gestures with the gun towards the kitchen table. “Sit.”

Helena sticks her hands in the pockets of her big green jacket and makes her moping way over to the chair. Sits. Sighs. Elbows on the table, chin in her hands. She is radiating discontent, like she truly believed she would open the door and Sarah would present her with a list of clones to lead to the slaughter.

Helena stares at her. Stares at the gun. Pouts.

“Tell me who you work for,” Sarah says. “Who sent you after these sheep? Who told you you were different?”

“ _You’re_ different,” Helena says stubbornly. “You can’t feel it? That you’re special?”

“I’m not special,” Sarah says. “I’m just as special as they are, Beth and Katja and—” a transformation: across the table Helena visibly perks up, almost radiates light. “—the others.” Helena droops again.

“Just one name,” Helena says. “Life for a life. And then I won’t have to kill you, not for a while.”

“A while,” Sarah says, words leaving her mouth as a terrified almost-laugh. “Sure.”

“I could convince him,” Helena says earnestly. “I know that you’re different. Just a little while. Then he’ll see it too. And then we can be together.”

“Who’s _he?_ ” Sarah says. Helena wrinkles her face up at her, doesn’t answer. She droops until her face is on the table. There is no way Sarah could shoot her like this, not with her cheek squished against the tabletop. She wonders if Helena knows. Probably.

“Come on, Helena,” Sarah sighs. “I can help you, yeah? But I can’t unless you tell me who’s in charge.”

“We could trade,” Helena says. “I give you one name. You give me one name.” She looks hopefully up at Sarah from the table; her shoulders roll, then her neck, then her head, and then she is vertical again. She looks very earnest. She almost stabbed Sarah in the eye, before, but she looks very earnest _now_.

“I can help you too,” she says. “But I can’t, unless you—”

“I get it,” Sarah says. She bites the inside of her lip. “If I give you a name,” she says, “you’ll tell me who you’re working for?”

“Yes,” Helena says. She looks inches away from squirming across the table and licking Sarah’s face. Or strangling her. Or maybe – disturbingly – both. Instead she—

Puts her elbow on the table and holds out a pinky. It is very solemn. Sarah can’t help blinking at it. It’s – definitely a pinky finger.

“ _Promise_ ,” Helena says, and she waggles the finger. Sarah lets out a sharp exhalation through her nose, links her own pinky around it.

“Sarah,” she says. Helena shakes her head.

“Not enough,” she says. Her head falls to one side again. “Other name. Also.”

“Thought this was a first name only thing,” Sarah says. “Since, y’know, I still don’t know yours.”

Helena just stares at her blankly. Her finger is still hooked around Sarah’s; Sarah tentatively tries pulling her finger back, but Helena’s grip may as well be stone. She’s stuck.

“Sarah Manning,” she says. “There y’go. That’s my end.”

“Tomas,” Helena says promptly. “Also Maggie, but not since your detective…” she shapes her index finger and thumb into a pistol, aims at Sarah, fires. _Pchoo_. Her other hand doesn’t break the link.

“That’s not enough,” Sarah says, echoing Helena from earlier and hoping for the best.

Helena shrugs. If it’s not Sarah’s imagination her hand is twisting towards Sarah’s hand, like she’s hoping all their fingers will end up laced together. Why the fuck is this Sarah’s life.

“We live on a ship,” she says. “In a shipyard. Mostly we talk about you. Maggie was supposed to find the others, but Maggie is gone now and so there is no way to hunt them down.” Her mouth splits open like rotten fruit, revealing teeth: she’s smiling. “Until you!”

“Tomas,” Sarah says slowly, pulling her hand back as Helena’s fingers twist closer. With her other hand she gets her finger back on the trigger. “Shipyard. Got it.”

“I’ll tell him,” Helena says earnestly, “about Sarah-Manning, and then he won’t come after you.”

Sarah lifts the gun, points it. Click. “That’s my name,” she says. Helena’s hand, startled, goes limp; Sarah yanks her hand back, tucks it in her lap. Her finger is sweaty from Helena’s hand. This entire experience is surreal.”Sarah,” Helena breathes, syllables held between her teeth like heart’s-meat. Her eyes are very wide. She looks like she’s experiencing religion for the first time, and doesn’t know what to do with it.

“That’s me,” Sarah says. “So? You gonna tell your Tomas about me, then, or am I really special?”

Helena’s face crumples, suddenly. “You tricked me,” she says, sounding horrified. “Sarah. _Sarah_. You gave me…” she stops, and looks down at the tabletop. Her eyes are moving frantically. Sarah is almost sorry for her, like this, having this obvious crisis. But not sorry enough.

“Go back to your ship, Helena,” she says, suddenly exhausted. “Tell Tomas you got a name. Or don’t.”

“I could kill you,” Helena whispers. “I know your name. I know where you sleep.”

“Yeah, well, so do I,” Sarah says. Helena looks back up at her, startled. She blinks. Sarah gestures with the gun towards the door. Helena looks at the gun, then at the door, and seemingly – for the first time – registers the threat of the pistol. She stands up and stuffs her hands back into her pockets. She steps backwards, backwards towards the door.

“Come visit,” she says, smiling. So many teeth in her mouth. “Come see. We’ll have fun, Sarah. You and me.”

She steps out the door, and she’s gone. Sarah doesn’t lower the pistol for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please kudos + comment if you enjoyed! :)


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